Socks, Sex and Snape
by Imogen
Summary: What happens when you put three such unconnected things together? It's bound to cause trouble! ~ Harry and Ginny try to find some time alone at Hogwarts. (Chapter 2 onwards written with Firebolt909)
1. Socks, Sex and Snape

This is a piece of nonsense that will hopefully make you laugh! JKR would NEVER do this to her characters I'm sure! Dedicated to all of you who share my sock fetish… Socks, Sex and Snape

Harry Potter stood alone, half-hidden in an alcove, some way along the Transfiguration corridor. He checked his watch impatiently for the third time in as many minutes, and peered around the suit of armour and down the corridor once more. Where on earth was she? Surely she couldn't have got detention with McGonagall again. Admittedly, she found the work easy, but that would make it the fourth one this month. He sighed in exasperation, but knowing full well that Ginny definitely hadn't left with the rest of the sixth years, and leaned back against the wall to wait, with as much patience as he could muster.

Bright sunshine streamed through the chequered panes of glass along the hallway, creating patterns along the floor as the beams distorted into elongated lengths, that stretched across the carpet, and touched the walls on the opposite side. Harry prodded the carpet restlessly with his foot, and finding that didn't soothe his frazzled nerves, he began to pace within the confines of the little space he occupied. Suddenly, he heard the lilt of a certain voice, which made his stomach quiver with anticipation, and a swift glance around the trusty suit of armour revealed the truth of the matter. A slight figure, wearing her vibrantly red hair twisted neatly into a knot, stood in the doorway talking vivaciously to Professor McGonagall and gesticulating wildly in the manner he adored. Even from this distance, Harry knew from two years experience of interpreting her moods that at least she hadn't got detention. He heaved a sigh of relief and began to grin wickedly once more.

Wand in hand, he waited. Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded at Ginny, before returning to her classroom; Ginny swung her bag casually over her shoulder and headed happily down the now deserted corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry's grin widened as she unknowingly passed by him, and before she had got more than a few steps further, he cast a simple spell.

"Accio!"

He heard her gasp of astonishment, as she was magically lifted from her feet and transported rapidly into his arms, as if attracted to him like a magnet.

"Oh it's you," she smiled fondly, stretching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, and carelessly playing with the little hairs there, sending prickles of desire down his spine.

"Who else would it be?" Harry chuckled throatily, drawing her backwards into the shadows. "Don't tell me other people do this to you all the time."

"Well, there was that one time when…" Ginny began, her eyes twinkling mischievously, but Harry wasn't listening. His lips suddenly met hers with a forceful longing, fingers frantically pulling the pin out from her hair, letting it cascade wildly around her, his hand tangled up in the thickness of it, loving the feel of her against him, filling his every sense. A soft moan escaped from her, making the blood pound in his ears. Feeling his back press against the wall, he pulled her ever closer to him, acutely aware of her small hands slowly beginning to explore, to caress, and to produce nerve endings on his body where there had been none before.

"Gin," he whispered breathlessly, returning the urgent kisses, the demand for more.

"Mm?"

"Have you got much homework tonight?"

She broke free from him and looked up, her dark brown eyes almost black with desire, breathing shallow and uneven.

"Nothing that can't wait," she whispered, her eyes still fused with his. "Why?"

"Do you want to?" he murmured, raising his eyebrow at her, before tracing a lightly fluttering trail of kisses down to that sensitive spot at the base of her neck, making her shiver with pleasure.

"Harry," she gasped. "You keep that up, and I'll pin you down right here and now."

"That'll be a bit of a shock for anyone going past," he chuckled in her ear. "But I'm game if you are."

She laughed, and slapped him affectionately. Reluctantly she pulled herself away from him and twitched her robes straight.

"Tonight, then?" she said, eyes alight with anticipation. "Shall I see you in the Common Room, or shall we meet up the same as last time?"

"I think it'd better not be like last time," Harry teased, with a devilish grin.

The colour rushed into her cheeks at the memory, but her eyes sparkled and a low chuckle erupted. There was absolutely no danger whatsoever of either of them forgetting that experience in a hurry, and Harry, for one, thought it might be prudent to avoid that particular broom cupboard on the fourth floor for the foreseeable future. It was typical of their relationship to be the total opposite to everyone else's; the first time they had ever had sex was wonderful, yet subsequent forays into parts of the school, for a bit of privacy in the dead of night, had met with rather mixed results.

On the last night in question, things had just been getting very interesting indeed, when the cupboard door had clicked open, despite the locking spell Ginny had cast on it. Harry was eternally grateful that Ginny had considerably more presence of mind than he did, and actually managed to throw the invisibility cloak over then like a blanket, concealing them from the intruder. He could remember it in vivid detail: the desperate attempt to control his unsteady, rasping breaths, the violent thudding of his heart, as they lay entwined together, too afraid to move. Footsteps coming ever nearer, some rummaging, and something was removed from the shelves not far from their feet. Further little steps, which Ginny had told him later belonged to one of the House Elves, followed by the gentle closing of the door. The sense of relief they felt to escape undetected was immense, but rather short lived. The House Elf, as is the nature of the very creatures, had neatly and tidily gathered together their clothing from where it had been strewn in their haste, and taken it away with her. To Harry's total mortification, his clothes simply appeared on his bed the following day, neatly laundered and pressed, and no comment was ever made about it.

"I am never going to forget that expression on your face," Ginny giggled wickedly, remembering the ensuing horror, and subsequent hilarity, at having to make their way back to Gryffindor Tower with nothing but the invisibility cloak to hide their modesty.

"Thank heavens for towels in the Prefects' bathroom," Harry laughed, turning rather red himself. "I think the Fat Lady would've had a heart attack if I'd had to step out of the cloak completely starkers to give her the password."

Tears of laughter rolled down Ginny's cheeks, and she hugged him tightly.

"It's worth it though," he said, kissing her deeply. "Leave it to me. I'll think of somewhere safer for tonight."

"Perfect," she whispered, beginning to twist her hair back up into its pleat, and then pinning it securely. "Come on. I'm ravenous and it's dinner now."

"What did McGonagall want?" Harry asked her curiously, as she slid her hand into his and they strolled down the corridor.

"Oh, she had a bit of a proposition for me," she grinned at him. "I think it's a plan to keep me out of trouble, to tell you the truth. I'm going to do my N.E.W.T.s in Transfiguration this year with you lot, and then she says I can work on becoming an Animagus next year, instead of the regular seventh year stuff."

"You're kidding?" Harry asked in sheer astonishment.

"No," she laughed. "It sounds great, doesn't it?"

"That's incredible, Ginny," he said, smiling proudly at her. "Y'know, maybe I should get you to teach me sometime. My dad was one, and I think I'd like that."

"Definitely," she replied, sneaking another swift kiss before they entered the Great Hall.

Harry glanced up from his chess game with Ron, unable to keep his eyes off Ginny for long. A warm feeling spread out, across the upper part of his chest, and steadily flowed through every inch of him as he absorbed her image. He watched her shake that glorious mane of hair free from the daily restrictions that she now imposed upon it, despite his protests. The multitude of colours danced in the candlelight, as it fell and then swung to stillness once more. She crossed her very orange feet on the table, making him idly wonder whose socks she was wearing today, and continued to read her book, completely oblivious to his rapt attention.

Harry smiled to himself. He loved her with every ounce of his being, and it amazed him each and every day that she could possibly feel the same way. All the same, it was incredibly frustrating that they couldn't spend the night together in the way they wanted. Quite aside from their encounter with the House Elf, there had been another disastrous occasion when they had sneaked out of Gryffindor Tower in the dead of night, down to one of the Muggle Studies classrooms. A particularly passionate clinch had resulted in them becoming so totally unaware of anything else, that they'd collided with one of the tall bookcases, sending it crashing violently to the ground. They'd had to flee that time as well, to escape the wrath of Filch and Mrs Norris, pulling their clothes back on as they went. And then, worst of all, there was the time when… Harry felt himself flushing fiercely at the very thought of that incident.

"Your move," Ron said, interrupting his thoughts, and looking curiously at his best friend. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered vaguely, and moved his rook a few paces, entirely oblivious to what that tactic would do to his game plan. It had obviously done something interesting, because Ron bent his head over the board again and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Harry stared back across at Ginny, who this time caught his eye and smiled at him with a very intimate and knowing expression, making his pulse begin to race in anticipation. The question was where should he take her? Hogwarts was enormous, and technically they should be able to find a multitude of solitary places, but certain factors made it very difficult. Locked doors never deterred the ghosts, for example, so they had to be well away from the usual areas they haunted. The thought of Peeves drifting in and catching them made Harry shudder. Not to mention that the news would be broadcast loudly within seconds in that loud cackling voice of his, and if they were really unlucky he'd probably make up a rude rhyme about it as well.

"Potter always looks at her

With expression so salacious.

I don't blame him, not one bit,

She's really quite delicious."

Much as Ginny loved poetry, Harry seriously doubted that she'd appreciate the literary merits of such a thing, and besides, Ron had no idea what they were up to and he'd probably have an apoplectic fit if confronted by the little poltergeist singing something like that about his best friend and little sister. Harry's mind ran riot over what Peeves could do with phrases like 'flagrante delicto,' and blushed even more deeply, his cheeks now radiating more warmth than the common room fire.

"What is up with you?" Ron asked incredulously, watching Harry move his knight to a square in direct line of fire from Ron's bishop.

"Nothing," Harry asserted, rather too forcibly for it to ring true. "Just not concentrating, I suppose."

Time ticked by agonisingly slowly, and Harry was still racking his brains without any success whatsoever, until Hermione unwittingly came up with a miraculous answer when she returned from the library.

"Hi there," she grinned at the pair of them, and dropping her heavy bag on the floor with a thud, she settled beside Ron and sighed heavily.

"Bad day?" Ron asked her sympathetically, as she wriggled up against him. His voice took on a teasing tone as he added, "Well, if you must be Head Girl, I suppose these things are going to happen."

"Oh, they've been adding an extension to the library, and I've been helping with the books," she said, sounding absolutely exhausted, but quite excited by the idea at the same time. "I've never seen wizard building before, you know. Dumbledore said we could create a couple of new study rooms for the sixth and seventh years off the main part of the library, and I've just been stocking the shelves in there with books. It'll be great. Imagine all the work we can do without all the younger ones disturbing us."

"Can't wait," Ron said, with a tinge of sarcasm. Then his eyes lit up. "Although," he said slowly, a smile spreading across his face, "It might be a good idea; it'll give us more privacy when we're working down there."

Harry grinned wickedly. It certainly did sound perfect, especially as he knew that the library was always completely deserted from about midnight onwards. Just the thing.

The flames flickered energetically in the fireplace, casting lively rays of light through the darkness, but the circular common room was devoid of other signs of life. Harry had pretended to go to sleep earlier in the dormitory, the scarlet drapes were firmly closed around his four-poster bed, so that none of the others would suspect his absence. Wrapped in his invisibility cloak, he crept stealthily back downstairs. He didn't have to wait long. A rapid patter of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of the woman he loved, her long red hair swirling tempestuously around her and as he watched, he felt a surge of longing filling his heart.

"Gin," he whispered hoarsely, swiftly pulling the hood of the cloak down so she could see where he was. "Over here."

She enveloped herself in the folds of the cloak, and squeezed closely to him so she disappeared from view completely to the outside world. His arms slid instinctively around her, and their lips frantically sought each other out, with a desperate sense combining love and lust and longing. The warm moisture of her mouth, the sensation of her breath lightly brushing across his skin made Harry forget the existence of everything but her. His hands roamed freely, wanting to know and explore and love every inch of her, but she caught his hands in hers.

"Not here," she whispered breathlessly. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Library, then," he murmured in her ear, holding tightly to one of her hands. And without another word, they slid through the portrait hole and silently hurried along the corridors and down sets of staircases until they rounded the corner that led to the newly extended library.

It was almost pitch black inside the large wood panelled room. The candles had all been extinguished for the night, and the only source by which they could see was a little moonlight trickling through the window, giving a bluish tinge to the darkness. Towering stacks of books lined the room, and usually seemed to be looming ominously over them, but tonight neither Harry, nor Ginny, took any notice of them. The extra study rooms were quickly located, and they locked themselves in the furthest one.

"Now then, Miss Weasley," Harry grinned at her as he pulled the cloak off them, and moved with her to a secluded spot behind a set of shelving. "Where were we?"

"About here, I think," she giggled softly, before kissing him once more and enveloping them both in a world of spectacular fireworks and deepest velvety darkness.

A little while later, she freed her mouth briefly from his, and giggled.

"I keep thinking about that elf," she admitted, breathing unsteady and her eyes glistening through the darkness. "I keep thinking she's going to come and take our clothes again."

Harry grinned down at her, seeing her hair tousled all over the floor is every direction, and bent to nuzzle into the sensitive spot on her neck, making her purr with pleasure.

"Got an idea," he said, voice muffled against her skin. He reached for his wand, and waved it at their discarded items:

"Subrigere occare."

Suddenly the clothing was magically lifted from both shelving and floor and whirled into mid-air, vanishing as it neared the ceiling.

"What did you do?" Ginny asked in astonishment.

"The spell's concealed them," Harry chuckled. "Still there, just invisible."

"Very clever," she whispered, rolling over to kiss him again. "I'm impressed."

Suddenly, they heard a noise, and they both froze. Harry could feel the muscles in her back tauten under his hand, and they held their breath, listening to the silence, which thickened around them. A footfall. There was someone out there. Harry groaned inwardly. This couldn't be happening again. He reached for the cloak. It was gone. The panic flooded through him, as he suddenly realised that it must be up on the ceiling with everything else, and to release that would be to release everything. Ginny had seen his frantic expression and understood, her eyes widening in horror. The footsteps were coming nearer, and with a last desperate glance at Harry, Ginny turned her wand on herself, and transfigured easily into a paint pot, nestled amongst the others littering the floor from Filch's decorating earlier in the day. Harry felt a good deal less secure about doing transfiguration, but what other option did he have? The door handle turned. Concentrating with all his might, he changed shape into a leather bound tome, leaning casually against the end of the shelving.

A distinctive shape strolled into the room, candle in his hand, casting the hooked nose and greasy black hair of the Potions Master into clearly into view. Harry didn't dare think of anything other than remaining a book. His transfiguration was shaky at the best of times, unlike Ginny, who could transform for hours on end. The last thing he needed right now was to pop back into his regular shape.

"Think book," he repeated to himself.

Snape had passed the paint pots and was stooping ever lower towards the spot where Harry was. His bony finger traced the legends along the spines of the books, clearly searching for something. Harry held his breath. Snape paused, looking right at him, and tapped him sharply, giving a snort of disgust under his breath.

"'The Rise and Fall of Harry Potter,'" he read in quietly scornful tones. "As if that boy isn't big headed enough already." Harry kept perfectly still, and Snape moved on, grasping a volume from further down the row and pulling it out of the stack. Harry would have been seething in fury, had it not been for the sight of the blue pot of paint turning very steadily into a fetching shade of red.

Snape flicked through the pages, and turned to go. He was a metre away from the door, when he uttered a cry of surprise as something hurtled from the ceiling and caught him between the eyes. Harry craned as far as he could to see, almost falling off the shelf in his efforts.

"How very interesting," Snape muttered to himself, picking up the projectile from the floor and examining it in candlelight. The socks were clearly visible, and the orange of the Chudley Cannons shone vibrantly in the half-light, broomstick on one sock and a cannon ball flying across the other. "Weasley," Snape said, looking around, as if expecting to see Ron right there behind him. "This wasn't here earlier. He's been down here after hours tonight, no doubt with Granger. Well, we shall see about that." He stalked purposefully out, and the door clicked shut behind him.

There was a very long pause.

Ginny reappeared looking extremely flushed, and Harry fought his way out of the confines of the bookshelf, reaching for her, to reassure her. She bit her lip with a mixture of horror and mischievous delight playing across her face.

"Ron's never going to let me steal his socks again," Ginny whispered. She giggled a little, and glanced impishly up at Harry. "So, do you know of any good books I can read tonight?


	2. Socks, Sex and Slugs

A/N: This is the first real collaborative effort between Imogen and Firebolt909. It came about through many IM's, much giggling, a bit of tweaking here and there, in between Imogen asking Firebolt909 what exactly she planned to do with the rest of the story and Firebolt909 replying "I'll know when I write it!" Ron's voices appear courtesy of Firebolt909 and the naughty poems appear courtesy of Imogen. Thanks to Thing1 for the idea of sweating books and to D.H Lawrence for inspiring the sex scene. No socks were stolen during the making of this story.

Socks, Sex and Slugs

They went up the astronomy tower

For some solitude, more than an hour.

A passionate kiss

Leads to sheer bliss

When a young maiden's deflowered.

Harry circled the goalposts, the wind whipping through his hair making him feel alive once more, despite a distinct lack of sleep the previous night. The weather was becoming warmer now, leaves shooting forth as far as the eye could see and covering the greyish boughs of winter with new life. He glanced briefly over at Ron, who caught his eye and then looked quickly away. Harry sighed, and with a heavy heart descended to discuss the new manoeuvre with his Chasers. Ron had barely spoken to him since Snape had discovered his socks in one of the library study rooms a few nights before. To a large extent, Harry couldn't blame him for feeling like this. Ron's detention was to be served this evening, in fact, and Harry knew without a doubt that Snape would make it as unpleasant as humanly possible. Ginny had tried to talk to Snape, to admit that it was her fault, but this had only made matters worse.

Over the past two years, Ron had become very used to seeing his little sister with Harry, and after the initial shock had worn off, he was actually quite relaxed about the whole thing. There was always the odd comment to tease, mainly telling Harry to put her down or to watch where his hands were going, but it was all done in good humour. This was different, though. Ron was clearly bothered about why Harry and Ginny were down in the library study rooms in the dead of night, and also what they had been doing for Ginny to have the socks off her feet in the first place. It didn't take a genius to put the two together, and Harry was pretty certain that Ron had worked out that they were actually now sleeping together. Or, to put it more accurately, they were trying to.

Hogwarts, as they had discovered, seemed to be the most difficult place in the world to be alone together. Their first time had been remarkably easy, mainly because it was Christmas and Ginny had her dormitory to herself. Despite his initial fears of hurting her, it had been perfect. He could remember the sheer pleasure of waking up early, feeling her nestled contentedly in his arms, the warmth of her body pressed against his. The night before had been beyond anything he could have ever imagined, a sharing of everything that they were, a giving, as the last barrier between them was removed with both tenderness and passion. Subsequent efforts, however, had met with various excruciatingly embarrassing interruptions, which had left them both bright red, in fits of laughter, and totally frustrated by the whole thing. Ginny still got the giggles at the very mention of House Elves, and Harry still couldn't bring himself to look Snape in the eye after he'd almost caught them devoid of clothing in the library.

Looking back over the past few weeks, he had to admit they had been remarkably unlucky, especially that worst time of all when…. Harry blushed fiercely just thinking about that. Hogwarts was as busy as King's Cross Station in the middle of the night, and Harry was starting to think that they might have a better chance of not being disturbed if they just went for it right in the middle of the marble staircase. Trying to be discreet, just didn't seem to be working. Not that they even had a chance to do that at the moment. Ron was behaving like one of those nesting mother dragons at the Triwizard Tournament, desperate to protect Ginny, whatever the cost. The fact that she didn't want protecting hadn't occurred to him. Every time Harry attempted to go anywhere near her, or slid out of bed to see her, Ron was there, barricading his way. Various charms were cast over the dormitory door to stop him leaving during the night, and more than once he'd been soaked to the skin by cold water magically drenching him as he reached the doorway. It had certainly cooled his ardour most effectively, but had definitely not improved his mood.

He swerved to avoid a Bludger, which whistled past his ear, and then caught sight of a familiar slight figure on the ground heading their way. Her masses of red hair, glinted in the evening sunlight, and Harry could only grin as he watched her. Ron, or no Ron, he loved her, they were going to find an opportunity to be together, and he could definitely kiss her now. He plunged into a steep dive, heading towards the ground, the crispness of the air filling his lungs, and clearing his mind. He hurtled further still, and drew up to a standstill right beside her. Abandoning his Firebolt, he enveloped her in a massive hug.

"Thought I'd come and see you," she smiled up at him. "I've been missing you."

"Don't hold your breath," Harry groaned, nodding towards the place where Ron was descending steadily in their direction. "I still think he's about ready to murder us."

"Well, let's give him good reason to," she giggled impishly, stretching up to kiss him. The blissful darkness of oblivion swept over him as their lips met; nothing existed but her. Even Quidditch lay forgotten in another world.

"Ginny!" Ron's voice shattered the dream-like state, and they quickly broke apart.

"Yes?" she said, smiling up at him with a very innocent expression. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes! Well…no! I mean…yes…" Ron stammered, turning slowly purple.

"What do you mean, Ron," she said icily, her eyes beginning to narrow dangerously and glitter. "Do you have a problem with Harry being my boyfriend now? You're behaving like a complete prat, you know."

"It's not Harry, it's just…" he spluttered, clearly out of his depth.

"Well, if you don't have a problem with Harry, leave us alone," her voice was steely.

"Fine, then!" he snapped. "Do what you want."

"Oh I will," she grinned wickedly. Then she stretched up to whisper in Harry's ear. "Astronomy tower at midnight?"

"Definitely," he said, knowing that it would be the perfect time for them to abscond, with Ron securely out of the picture.

Ron was up to something, that much was obvious to Harry. He'd been very quiet all evening, and Harry noticed on several occasions that Ron was almost smiling in a not-so-friendly sort of way in his direction. This did not bode well for one who was once again trying to be alone with his girlfriend.

Hermione was sitting next to Ron, her long bushy hair flying about madly as she ploughed through her homework. She hadn't been very pleased with Harry and Ginny herself, and had acted very coolly towards them since the incident. As the large grandfather clock chimed nine, she looked up from her History of Magic essay and said, "Ron, you'd better be heading down to the dungeons. You know what he'll be like if you're late." Snape had made Ron's detention start at 9:13, using the odd number to keep Ron on his toes.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Ron glowered at Harry one last time, before he reluctantly rose from his chair and with a heavy sigh, slouched off out of the portrait hole to face his doom.

Harry felt awful, he really did, but just the same, he couldn't help the little lurch that his heart gave when Ginny came flying down the stairs in her normal fashion, nothing but a whirlwind of red hair and laughter.

"Hi there!" she said, as she flopped down beside him, and gave him a quick kiss. She smiled up at him and Harry felt his insides melt instantly into a puddle on the floor. "Where's Ron?" It was the worst thing she could have possibly asked.

"He's just had to go to detention—the detention that you got him into!" Hermione snapped, her hazel eyes flashing furiously as she jabbed her eagle feather quill in Ginny's direction.

Ginny's face fell. "I'm really sorry about that and I tried to explain what happ—"

"Sorry? For nearly getting caught doing—"

"What you and Ron have been doing since last summer," Ginny retorted, her flaming red hair swirling furiously around her and her eyes glittering in the candlelight, revealing her to be just as angry as Hermione. Harry swiftly shuffled back in his seat, not wanting to get involved in what was promising to be quite a row between the two girls, but yet also wanting to jump to Ginny's defense. He blinked suddenly. What had Ginny just said? Had he heard her right? Surely not.

Hermione flushed a bright red. "Yes," she admitted. "But we don't get caught, do we?"

"Only because you have that nice, big bedroom all to yourself as Head Girl," Ginny shot back, making Hermione turn even redder.

"You've been doing what?" Harry stammered, feeling completely at sea with this new twist in events. He was looking at Hermione like he'd never seen her before. "With Ron?" he asked in disbelief.

Hermione, who was now almost crimson with embarrassment, sighed and gave him an exasperated look.

"Of course with Ron," she hissed beneath her breath. "Who else did you think it was likely to be? The entire Slytherin Quidditch team?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't. He stared in amazement at Hermione, not even knowing how to go about registering something as earth shattering as that news. She tutted angrily and submerged herself in her essay once more. Ginny immediately sprang up out of her squashy armchair, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him across the room with a force he'd not thought possible from such a small creature. Crookshanks simply yawned and stretched in his seat beside his owner, watching their every move through his intelligent amber eyes.

"It's not fair," Ginny grumbled, as Harry sat down on the small sofa behind the dormitory stairs and she wriggled beside him. "We didn't mean to get anyone in trouble!"

"They've been doing it for how long?" Harry stuttered, his mind still incredulous about the previous conversation.

"About eight months," Ginny giggled suddenly, twisting in the seat so that her back was leaning up against Harry. He buried his nose into the sweet, clean hair that clung to his shoulder. "I bet it must be nice to not have to worry about house-elves, or teachers, or…or…" She stopped, and Harry could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. She was obviously thinking about that…

Ron Weasley glowered at the mountainous pile of slugs before him, glistening repulsively in the candlelight. The dungeon was chilly at that time in the evening, and Ron's mood deteriorated further with the sight of Snape leaning back in his chair, reading an essay, with a satisfied smile on his face. Ron grasped another slug, feeling it squelch and slide beneath his fingers. Silently, he cursed Ginny and Harry. Detentions with Snape were bad enough at the best of times, when you'd done something to deserve it, but to be here because he'd got the blame for them sneaking out to... to do that... in the library of all places! He shook his head, in disbelief, and squeezed the slug forcibly, making the eyes shoot out of their sockets with a satisfying popping noise. He made a mental note to kill Harry when he got the chance; Harry should have told him what he was planning with Ginny, and then he could have murdered him earlier and saved them from all this bother.

Ron heaved a sigh, and seized another slug. Admittedly, his own relationship with Hermione had developed to a similar point over the summer, but that was different. They were both eighteen now, and had discussed it through like the mature adults they were. Ginny, on the other hand, was his little sister. How could Harry even think about doing anything like that with her? Ron shuddered.

He was just going to have to stop them, that was all. The water charm cast over the dormitory door seemed to be doing the trick and preventing further nocturnal wanderings, although Seamus had been less than impressed when he had been drenched by it. All Ron needed to do was ensure that Harry and Ginny didn't get the opportunity to do anything like that again, and that shouldn't be too difficult. Ron suddenly paused, and nodded thoughtfully. They were going to be up to something tonight whilst he was stuck in detention; he was certain of it. He knew that mischievous expression on his little sister's face all too well, and it had been there when she was talking to Harry on the Quidditch pitch earlier. There was no question, Ginny was up to no good, and Harry was involved. Thankfully he had a plan.

"Ginny, will you stop that!" Harry hissed into the starlit darkness of the Astronomy Tower. The journey from the Gryffindor common room to the tower had been relatively uneventful, if not completely silent, due to Ginny's giggles when they had passed a house-elf who was busy checking inside a broom cupboard.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she chuckled, as she pulled him towards the window and wrapped her arms around him. "But it's just so funny! Who would have thought we'd have been reduced to doing this?"

Harry suppressed a smile as he kissed the top of her head. Yes, it was rather funny, everything they had been through these past few weeks, and had he felt less frustrated, he probably would have joined in laughing along with Ginny. However, Harry was getting sick and tired of these near misses, especially when he had a sneaking suspicion that Ron was now joining the fates against them. Harry's mind was also still reeling over Hermione's revelation, and it had gradually dawned on him that Ron was acting like a complete hypocrite. It was enough to make Harry wish that Hermione had an older brother, preferably one the size of Crabbe and Goyle.

Ginny was trying desperately to choke back her giggles, but was failing dismally. A single tear of laughter trailed down her cheek as she spluttered something incoherently about books sweating in fear and paint cans blushing.

"Will you shush!" Harry breathed into her ear, grinning when he felt her shiver from the sensation. "Or you'll get us caught this time."

"Sorry," she whispered, sobering quickly and caressing his cheek. "I do love you, you know."

"You must," he chuckled, running his fingers gently down her spine, and feeling her back arch towards him in pleasure. "I can't imagine anyone else putting up with all this, just to be with me."

"Well, let's just make the most of the time we've got now," she smiled, stretching up to kiss him with her eyes sparkling. "Before we get interrupted by a tap dancing tribe of goblins."

The kiss drew him in, melting him into her, into blissful darkness. The warm moisture of her mouth, and her roving hands sparked a tingling fire, which spread rapidly throughout his body and mind. He was hers: totally and forever.

Stars twinkled knowingly beyond the window, and the night air sighed, stroking the leaves of the Forbidden Forest and making them quiver. The wind teased at the branches, swirling lightly, then retreating, before breathing on them once more. Blossom tumbled gently to the earth beneath, where it lay unnoticed. An owl hooted, breaking the stillness of the night, the long quavering cry of the manticore responded, echoing across the grounds. And then there was silence.

Ron grabbed a final handful of slugs and started removing their eyes into the copper bowl before him, as quickly as he possibly could. When the last one was taken care of, he looked down at his watch in relief. Quarter to one in the morning. Sweaty, smelly, and covered in remnants of slug, Ron crept out into the dungeon hallway, where the single flaming torch cast eerie light across the stone floor. A pair of lamplight yellow eyes stopped him dead in his path.

"Hello there, Crookshanks," he said quietly, reaching his hand out to give Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat a good scratch behind the ear. Crookshanks leaned into his hand and purred. Ron and Crookshanks may have started off on the wrong foot years ago, but they both seemed to get along much better now, and Ron had a sneaking suspicion that this may well have to do with their mutual admiration of Hermione.

"How did you get on with your little assignment?" he whispered. Crookshanks let out what Ron thought of as his version of a meow and circled once on the spot before hurrying back down the hallway, his bottle-brush tail held proudly in the air. He led Ron towards the main hallway, up the marble staircase, and through a maze of shadowy passages, twisting and turning through the school. Ron followed stealthily, taking care to keep out of the moonlight and skirted the edges of darkness. His heart beat nervously against his ribs for fear of coming across Filch or Mrs Norris. Neither, however, were to be seen.

The final corridor led to the Astronomy Tower, and he suddenly paused at the foot of the stairs. For the first time, he actually wondered what he would find when he went up there and it made him blanch slightly. Although he really wanted revenge, the concept of catching them in flagrante delicto caused his stomach to churn. He couldn't imagine anything worse. Through the heavy silence of the night, he listened in trepidation for any sound that might give him a hint of what sort of activity was going on inside before he went any further.

Harry lay on his back, his breathing steadily returning to normal, as he stared up at the ceiling of the Astronomy tower, watching the bewitched image of the starry night outside. Constellations glittered clearly through the infinite ebony depths of the sky, and his eyes wandered idly over them, and then to Ginny, who was curled up tightly beside him, her head buried somewhere between his shoulder and the crook of his neck. She made a tiny snuffling noise, which caused his heart to skip a beat, and a laugh of sheer delight threatened to explode from within him, for no reason whatsoever. It was ridiculous the effect she had on him, but he adored it. A feeling of happiness trickled pleasurably through him, increasing until it was cascading like a waterfall. Ginny brushed against his cheek, with a tiny fluttering touch, and he hugged her tightly in his arms loving the feel of her, her scent, and even the taste of her kisses which seemed to be indelibly imprinted upon his lips.

"I could just lie here forever," she whispered, staring up at the stars above their heads. "This is wonderful."

"Schedar's bright tonight," Harry observed, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. He kissed the top of her head gently. "Must mean something good. I've not seen any house elves since we got here."

"That's my constellation," she chuckled gently.

"Yours?" he asked in amusement, shifting a little so he could see her face.

"Yeah," she smiled contentedly. "Cassiopeia. You know, when I was little my dad used to show me those stars, and tell me the 'W' was for Weasley."

"Well isn't it?" Harry teased her gently.

"Of course it is," she smiled. "Dad always told me the story of those stars too. He used to tease me so much, saying I'd turn out just like Cassiopeia did and be really proud of how I looked, thinking I was even more beautiful than the Nereids." She paused and giggled. "Hardly likely, is it? Not with this red hair and all my freckles. Anyway, poor old Cassiopeia's got her punishment. You can see her there in her chair, hanging upside down for most of the year."

"Ginny Weasley," he said sternly, kissing the tip of her nose, and reassuring the very same freckles she'd just offended. "Those Nereids haven't got a look in."

"Flatterer," she giggled, and stared thoughtfully back up at the stars. "Which one's Ursa Major again? I can never find it without my text book."

Ron paused awkwardly beside the door to the Astronomy classroom, Crookshanks winding in and out of his legs, threatening to trip him up with affection. He frowned slightly wondering what it was that made him feel like he was totally in the wrong by being here. Perhaps he was being a bit high-handed where Ginny was concerned. Even a blind man could see how much in love Harry and Ginny were, and Ron knew first hand how much it had cost them to be together. Maybe he should just go back to the common room and let Harry and Ginny owe him one for the detention. They could name their firstborn after him. Ron felt himself reddening at the prospect, and sincerely hoped that particular happy event was a good way off on the horizon.

He was about to leave the landing when he heard their voices, talking quietly, and he edged anxiously back to the doorway, listening intently to what they had to say.

"You know," he heard his sister's soft voice say thoughtfully. "I've never really thought about how these things fit together before."

Please don't let my baby sister be talking about what I think she's talking about.

"Look here," Harry's voice responded to her. "See how it goes up, right there. Try tracing it with your finger."

He'd better be showing her how to sketch or something. Yes, I'll just wrap that thought around me like a warm blanket.

"I've never looked at it like this before," she said, with a little giggle. "Show me again."

"It's easy when you know what you're looking for," Harry replied. "Use that point right there to guide your way. That's it."

I'm going to murder Harry with my bare hands.

"Got it!" Ginny squealed with delight.

Ron didn't stop to think; in fact, he was relying on gut instinct and fury. He burst into the Astronomy Tower with his wand out, shouting, "WHAT IN HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" It would have been funny to see Harry and Ginny leap up, turn, and yelp in unison. However, Ron wasn't laughing at the moment. He surveyed the scene.

Harry went totally white, and needed only a ruff around his neck to look like Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. His hair, which was normally so untidy, stuck out at even odder angles, and his glasses rested crookedly on his nose. Ginny turned as white as Harry had, then slowly her skin took on a very dark reddish hue, from the very tips of her ears, right down to where her neck met the dark wool of her rather rumpled Hogwarts robes.

Well, at least they're clothed. Thank God for small things.

"Ron! What are you doing here?" she asked, in a deceptively quiet tone.

"Me?" Ron was far too furious to take any notice of her. "Me? Don't try and blame me for this. What are you doing here?"

"Is this because of the socks?" Harry asked, the whiteness of his demeanour now mottled with splodges of angry red.

Socks?! You are…doing…stuff with my sister and I'm supposed to be mad about socks!

"It's not just that," Ron snapped. "I knew you two would be out tonight, doing something... something like this."

"Something like what, Ron?" said Ginny, her voice rising in anger with each word she spoke. "We're merely up in the Astronomy Tower, discussing constellations. As if that's any of your business!"

Yeah right. Is that what they're calling it these days?

"Yeah, constellations. That's right," Ron retorted scornfully. "I heard you Gin."

"Heard what exactly?" Her voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife. Ron knew that tone well, and flinched slightly. Ginny's temper was savage, and he'd been on the receiving end of it before. She took no prisoners when she was in a mood like this.

Hmmm. Perhaps a different tactic would be wise.

"Er…" Ron faltered, heat flooding his face as he recollected the conversation. "How…um…things fit together." He saw his sister and his best friend exchange puzzled glances. "Oh for heavens sakes!" he yelled at them. "I'm not stupid you know."

"You're doing a pretty good impression of it from what I can see," Ginny retorted bitterly. "Harry was showing me Ursa Major."

"I'm sure that wasn't all he was showing you," Ron spat back, before he could stop himself.

"WHAT?" Ginny shrieked. Ron saw Harry put his arm around her to calm her, but the sight of him holding her merely added fuel to the fire. He was so comfortable in the way he touched her, seemed to know his way around her body so easily.

"Tracing things with your finger, Ginny?" he reminded her, of what he'd overheard. He watched her carefully, and was delighted to see realisation slowly dawning across her face. She glanced up at Harry and, to Ron's amazement, both of them began to chuckle.

"It's like this, Ron," she said, biting her lip to calm herself. "If I start from Cassiopeia, and trace my way over here like this," she demonstrated with her finger as she spoke. "Then I find the lowest star in Ursa Major."

"Well, what about the 'point right there to guide your way'?" he blustered, looking at Harry, who was now choking back the laughter quite visibly.

"Polaris," he spluttered, sinking onto the floor and burying his head in his knees to muffle his hilarity.

"You mean you weren't…?" Ron stammered incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Ron," Ginny giggled. "It's really none of your business, but I'm definitely sure there was nothing going on just before you barged in. I think I'd have noticed if there was. Other times, I refuse to vouch for. That's entirely between me and Harry."

Ron felt his cheeks growing even hotter, and he found himself unable to look at either Ginny or Harry. The embarrassment factor of what he'd just done began to sink in, and he groaned to himself. How could he have been so stupid? Neither of them were going to forgive him in a hurry for this. What on earth had possessed him?

"Ron," Ginny said firmly, taking control of the situation. "I suggest you go and have a nice hot bath or something. I think Hermione might well object to the delightful smell of eau de bats livers, or whatever that is."

"Slugs," Ron replied sheepishly, and gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'll…er… I'll leave you to it, then."

The heavy oak door creaked to a close behind Ron, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. That had been almost as close as their encounter with Snape. If Ron had arrived a mere fifteen minutes earlier, he would have been greeted by a completely different scenario, and a good deal less clothing. A broad grin spread across his face at the memory.

"Can you believe him?" Ginny said incredulously, still staring at the space in the doorway Ron had just occupied. Harry pulled her closer, his hands gently running up and down her back to soothe her. "Thinks I'm still a baby or something, how dare he just barge in when we…when we..," Ginny paused and giggled. "It was funny though, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," he grinned, leaning over to kiss her deeply. He felt her quiver beneath his fingers. "Although if he'd turned up a few minutes earlier, it could have turned out like that again."

Ginny blushed, but grinned impishly up at him. "Oh, I'm sure I can make Ron live to rue the day. I'm just glad he's not observant at the best of times."

"Why's that?" wondered Harry. She pointed towards the window, and when Harry saw what was there, he began to laugh. Due to a reduction in sock stealing potential, Ginny had been forced in to wearing her own stockings, and the ones she'd been wearing earlier were still hanging where they'd been flung in the haste of the moment; delicately draped over a telescope in full view of the entire room.

"He'd have had kittens if he'd seen them," she laughed.

"Well, you heard your brother," he said, grinning wickedly at her. "He's leaving us to it. Be a shame to waste the opportunity."

Night time fades and the dawn starts breaking

The drama and laughter all are fading.

The moral is, when the earth is rocking

Never forget where you've put your stockings!


	3. Socks, Sex and Soapsuds

A/N: Well, here it is! This is the scene that we've been referring to as that in the previous two stories. We've had a blast writing this, staying up really past our bedtimes, ignoring work, and generally being the two silly monarchs that we are. No socks were stolen during the writing of this story, and the towels are on loan from Firebolt909.

JKR would be appalled if she knew we were doing this to her innocent characters….they however, don't mind a bit and are looking forward to more steamy adventures.

**Socks, Sex and Soapsuds**

Harry Potter sat in the heady atmosphere of the Divination classroom at the top of North Tower. The fire blazed fiercely in the grate, despite the golden beams of sunlight streaming in through the windows of the circular room. The perfumed air made Harry's head spin, and it was only the company of Ron that made these lessons even remotely bearable. Harry glanced over at him, and saw his best friend staring in bewilderment at the crystal ball in front of him. If truth be told, neither of them had ever seen anything in Divination, but their powers of invention were beyond compare. They could cheerfully predict their own deaths in a variety of tragic circumstances without any need for magic at all.

"Look carefully into the crystal," Professor Trelawney's voice wavered mistily around the classroom. "Make a note of what you see there, and then try to interpret it."

"D'you think the old bat'll notice if we skip the crystal ball bit?" Ron muttered to Harry, reaching for a piece of parchment and his quill. Harry choked back a laugh. His friendship with Ron was just about getting back to normal. Things had been a bit strained recently as Ron had believed, quite reasonably, that Harry was up to no good with his little sister. Harry was eternally grateful that Ron wasn't the most observant of people, as he had narrowly avoided catching them at it in the Astronomy Tower last week. Thankfully Ron had believed their star gazing story, and was even more embarrassed about the incident than they were. This had given them a bit more leeway in their nocturnal wanderings, and they'd retreated into a particularly quiet and pleasant spot in the storage cupboard at the back of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom, from which they'd both emerged some time later with somewhat irrepressible smiles on their faces.

Harry grinned broadly at the memory, but seeing Ron shoot him a quizzical glance, he focused his attention on the swirling mist within the crystal ball, expecting to see nothing. However, this time was different. Harry stared in amazement as the mist began to clear, and images shimmered and swayed into clearer focus. He blinked to make sure he wasn't imagining it. Then he saw what the image was, he felt his cheeks start to burn. No, this wasn't happening. It couldn't be. How could he be seeing… that in the crystal ball?

Transfixed in horror, his eyes widened as he surveyed the luxurious marble room, the fluffy white towels, and the solitary painting on the wall of the blonde mermaid. The candle-filled chandelier glimmered through the darkness, casting into relief two embracing figures: one with long flowing red hair which glittered in the soft light, and the other was taller, with a dishevelled mop of untidy black hair, sticking out in all directions. Harry knew what was coming, but, however much he wanted to, he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene.

They'd slipped out of Gryffindor Tower slightly earlier than normal, just before Filch started his rounds with Mrs Norris, searching out errant students for inventively horrible detentions. Ginny had complained of a headache earlier and had disappeared up to her dormitory, but what none of the others realised was that she was back again a little later, safely hidden within the folds of the invisibility cloak. They left the common room together, Harry keeping a weather eye on the Marauder's Map for signs of anything or anyone heading in their direction. They weren't quite out of bounds yet, but if he was confronted, he had a story already concocted that should keep him out of trouble.

They wound their way down some stairs and through the maze of dimly lit corridors, Ginny darting up to him and tickling him gently and making him giggle aloud, before wriggling away again so he couldn't catch her.

"Stop it!" he hissed beneath his breath, and then gasped as he felt her invisible hands caress him. "Ginny!" he whispered breathlessly, not knowing whether to be horrified or delighted by her behaviour. "Let's wait until we get there OK?"

Harry heard a low chuckle from somewhere behind him. "It's more fun this way, don't you think?"

"Stop giggling before Filch hears you!" Harry whispered urgently. He groaned loudly as he felt those invisible hands on him again, this time running down…down…

"Better get inside then, so I can have my wicked way with you." Ginny's breath was hot against his ear. He swallowed. Rounding the final corner, he was relieved to see their final destination in sight.

Hurrying up to the door, he glanced quickly around him to ensure that he was indeed unobserved. Harry leaned carefully up to the statue of Boris the Bewildered and whispered the password; something that he prayed Ginny couldn't hear. A raucous cheer went up from the nearby portrait of an all male Quidditch team, and a torrent of horrified laughter by his ear made him blush; Ginny had indeed heard him. Harry felt the need to defend himself.

"I didn't make it up! It was Seamus' turn for the password," he protested vehemently, feeling his face becoming even hotter.

"What did you say?" Ginny gasped out between giggles. "Now, the question is, Mr Potter, can you identify where on the female body that might be?"

Harry looked steadily at the spot where he thought Ginny was, and a slow grin spread wickedly across his face.

"Give me a few minutes, Miss Weasley, and I'm sure I can show you."

He felt a small breeze drift past him, and he followed her into the Prefects' Bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him.

The cloak fluttered like silvery gossamer from her fingers, and the figure he adored more than any other reappeared before him. The soft candlelight shimmered from the magnificent chandelier overhead, catching the coppery highlights in her flowing red hair, and her face lifted to him with such a smile of pleasure that it almost made his heart stop. He pulled her swiftly into his arms, loving the feel of her against him, and sought out her lips, dissolving into a world where only they existed.

Small hands travelled, roving across his body, and questing inquisitively under his dressing gown, creating tingling fires as they passed by. Her dark brown eyes were filled with passion, fuelling his own. He caught his breath, as the lightest of touches brushed across his bare stomach, filling his mind with nothing but her, and his desire to love her.

His own hands were equally busy exploring, marvelling at being able to touch her. Gently, he pulled back the folds of her dressing gown feeling goosebumps appearing where he trailed kisses down her neck, making her quiver. His eyes widened, as her robe slipped off her shoulders and crumpled around her feet on the floor.

"Gin," he gulped, unable to tear his eyes off her. "I can't… I can't believe that's all you were wearing. What if someone had seen you?"

"I was wearing the invisibility cloak, silly," she chuckled. "Who could've seen me besides Mad Eye Moody?"

"Trust me, Ginny. He'd be missing the rest of his nose if he ever saw you like this," he said, before bending his head to kiss her again. His hands roved down her back, enjoying the sensation of the softness of her skin against his, and the way her back arched in such pleasure at his caress.

Harry shifted uncomfortably against the plump cushion in the armchair, acutely aware of the oppressive heat in the room, as he gazed at the scene unfolding before his very eyes in the crystal ball. His eyes covertly darted over to Ron, desperately hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to Harry's furiously flushing face or the physical reactions he was having elsewhere. What Ron would say if he could see his little sister like that just didn't bear thinking about. But Ron was staring into his own globe, wearing an expression somewhere between amazement and extreme horror. As though sensing Harry's eyes on him, Ron looked up, still stunned from the visions his own crystal held.

"What do you see?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron's ears immediately turned pink and he moved uneasily in his chair. "N-Nothing," he stammered. "Nothing at all. What about you?" Ron leaned sideways to gaze into Harry's crystal.

"Nothing!" Harry yelped in alarm, slightly too loudly, making Lavender and Parvati, who were at the next table, glance over at them. "I don't see a thing," he hissed in a lower tone. Ron nodded, and in unspoken agreement, both immediately returned their attention to their respective crystal balls.

Harry lowered himself gradually into the warm water of the swimming-pool-sized bath, the deep foam tickling his skin as he sank. Steamy scented clouds cast a haze around the room like a mirage, and he floated briefly backwards before reaching his hands up for Ginny. Harry's arms trembled as he lifted her into the water, hearing her small gasp as the heat touched her skin, making it glow a shell-like soft pink that matched the shade of her cheeks. She giggled softly, and drifted into his arms, kissing him again, and again.

"This is nice," she murmured, tiny ringlets drifting seductively around her face, having escaped from the restraints she had imposed upon her hair. Harry couldn't help but watch entranced as a tiny droplet of water fell from one of the tendrils and trickled down her cheek. He reached out, and gently smoothed it away, smiling into those wonderful brown eyes, into the soul of the woman he loved.

"I want this to be perfect," he whispered, enjoying the new sensation of exploring her skin beneath the warm water, to be able to move with her so easily, limbs entwined in the liquid weightlessness of their world. His eyes focused on her face as she gasped and leaned back into his fingers, responding to his every touch. Circling slowly, their embrace became tighter, ever more intimate, as lips sought each other out with love and desire.

A splash and an intimate chuckle echoed around the bathroom. The air swirled heavily around them, condensation covering the mirror so that only a shadow of reality remained. Soft sounds whispered through the chamber, and the two figures in the mists of the crystal ball blurred into one.

"What do you see, my dear?" The airy voice of Professor Trelawney gave Harry the scare of his life. Eyes wide, he looked up to see her thin figure standing over him, her enormous spectacles reflecting his shocked, reddened face.

"N-Nothing but sex… socks!… I mean socks!" Harry stuttered, his voice emphasising the last word more loudly than he had intended, hoping to cover up his blunder, and desperately praying that Ron wasn't listening. Professor Trelawney seemed to not have noticed it either because she was looking rather disappointed.

"No signs of danger then, my dear boy?" she asked. "No sign of terror, no indication of the horrible fate that awaits you?"

"Er, no," Harry replied, with a nasty sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, well aware of the horrible fate that was about to occur. "Just socks." An idea instantly sprung into his head. "They have been stolen though," he added brightly.

"Hmmm…" Professor Trelawney said thoughtfully. "Stolen items are never a good sign. Didn't I tell you earlier in the week that when Mercury is in the Twelfth House that…"

"Oh yes!" Harry exclaimed quickly, not wanting her to launch into another long explanation of nonsense.

"And what about you, dear child?" Trelawney asked Ron, thankfully losing all interest in Harry and his socks. "What do you see?"

Ron's entire face now glowed like the sun, making his vivid hair pale in comparison. "Uh..." Ron never took his eyes away from his crystal ball as he replied, "Uh...I see...bubbles. Yeah, bubbles. You know, like from a bath."

Harry's head snapped up so fast it almost gave him whiplash. Bubbles? Ron couldn't be seeing what he was seeing, could he? No, no. It wasn't possible. For one thing, Harry would be lying on the floor in bloody bits after Ron got through with him. But what

could Ron be referring to? Despite his own embarrassment, Harry had to hide his grin behind his hand before he was drawn back to the inevitability of his fate in the crystal ball.

Harry chuckled quietly at the cry Ginny had just uttered, making her eyes flutter open, and a grin spread across her flushed face.

"Hey, it's not my fault," she teased him, somewhat breathlessly. "You're the one doing this to me." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Don't stop, though!"

"Ginny, I think I can safely say that at this point it would be next to impossible for me to…" He happened to glance over her foam-covered shoulder and his voice dried up and died away completely. And that wasn't the only thing. It seemed that the impossible could happen.

"Oh, don't stop because of me either," a glum voice echoed through the room. "I mean, nobody notices I'm here anyway."

"Wh-what?" Ginny gasped, eyes widening in horror She quickly pulled herself up and wriggled tightly against Harry's chest, where he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

Through the steaming mists of the prefects' bathroom, a silvery white shape could be seen distinctly, sitting cross-legged and floating above the bath. Myrtle regarded them curiously through her thick spectacles, a superior smile flickering across her face. Harry felt desire drain from him like the bath had suddenly been transformed into the Hogwarts lake on the frostiest of mornings. His heart was thumping unpleasantly quickly and he could feel his face heating to a shade of brightest red, not entirely dissimilar to Ginny's crimson complexion. Myrtle continued to stare at the pair of them, and thoughtfully picked at one of her spots.

"You haven't been to see me recently," she said huffily to Harry.

"Well, I've… er… I've been busy," Harry stuttered, his brain whirling in overdrive. Even with the thickness of the foam, it must have been relatively obvious what they had been doing, and he knew for a certain fact that if Myrtle didn't keep this to herself, they could very well be facing expulsion. Why, oh why, hadn't he remembered Myrtle's appearance in this very bathroom back in his fourth year.

"I can see that," Myrtle said pointedly, nodding towards Ginny, who was turning even redder. "You looked very busy with her when I got here."

"When exactly did you get here?" Harry asked nervously, trying to work out how much Myrtle had seen. A smug smile spread across Myrtle's face.

"Oooh, wouldn't you like to know," she said, looking at him with undisguised relish. "I've seen and heard some very interesting things in here tonight. This sort of behaviour would have never happened in my day, although I remember Olive Hornby being caught after hours with Orion Williams in Greenhouse Five. They were just kissing though, nothing like this."

"Were you spying on them as well, Myrtle?" Ginny said furiously, and with a quick embarrassed glance at Harry, she swam for the side of the bath, leaving him feeling oddly bereft.

"Not spying," Myrtle said indignantly. "I was only watching out for her. You know what these boys can be like sometimes."

"Not really, Ginny muttered grimly, levering herself out, in a rush of water and soapsuds onto the marble floor. "I only know what Harry's like. What did you do that I haven't to find that out, Myrtle?"

Harry watched in fascination as the ghost's face flushed a shade of deep silver. She looked uncertainly at Ginny, seeing the trails of bubbles covering a few parts of her anatomy like patches of extremely scanty clothing.

"This is a boys bathroom," she said self-righteously, after a very long pause. "And you are most definitely not one."

"Neither are you, Myrtle," Ginny snapped, wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, still flushed with embarrassment. "But you obviously think it's all right for you to be in here. Imagine what the prefects would think, to find a ghost ogling them through the taps."

"I should tell Dumbledore, I should," Myrtle half-sang, a glimmer of malicious intent surfacing as she swooped through the air.

"Don't do that, Myrtle. Wait a minute," Harry interrupted, heading over as quickly as the water would allow. He was about to get out, when he realised that Myrtle was eyeing him with interest, and sank back down into the foam, making sure he was properly covered.

"Ginny, can you throw me a towel?" he asked desperately. "Please?"

Ginny grinned slyly as she spotted his predicament, and slid a towel mischievously through her hands.

"A towel, you say? Is this what you want?" she grinned impishly. Harry sighed heavily. He might have known. When did a Weasley ever pass up the opportunity to tease, and Ginny was certainly not going to let this one pass by, even given the severity of the situation.

"Please," he begged, sounding ever more desperate.

"Come and get it," Ginny grinned wickedly, backing up from the edge of the bath, and swinging the towel tantalisingly from her hand.

"I think I like her," Myrtle commented, absently picking a spot on her chin.

Ginny's gaze snapped back to Myrtle. "Go away now, Myrtle. You've seen enough here already."

"Well, it's not like I haven't seen him without clothes on before," Myrtle protested, gesturing at Harry, who had now almost completely submerged himself into the foam to hide his embarrassment. He might have known she'd bring that up! "But he's grown a lot since then," Myrtle added seriously. "A lot."

Ginny let out a surprised peal of laughter. "I'll bet he has," she gasped out, nearly doubled over with giggles.

"Please may I have the towel now?" Harry said through gritted teeth, really not liking the direction this conversation was taking. Ginny grinned, and threw it over. He wrapped the towel around him, making sure he had everything concealed. It slipped a bit from his soapy hands, and he made a desperate grab at it.

"Here let me help you," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling in the candle lit room. Harry backed up a bit. When she was in this sort of mood, he didn't trust her an inch. She smiled at him. "That's enough, Myrtle," she said to the enthralled ghost. "The show's over."

"OK," Myrtle said, sounding very disappointed. "If you come to visit me, I'll tell you about the first time I caught him in here."

"I'd like that," Ginny chuckled.

"GET OUT OF HERE, MYRTLE!" Harry bellowed. "Before I kill you," he added, completely forgetting that she was already dead.

Myrtle's eyes filled with silvery tears and she began to sob. Harry suddenly realised with a jolt that she was incredibly sensitive to references about not being alive.

"How could you?" she wailed noisily. "You know that I'm... that I've been…" And before Harry could say another word, Myrtle she swept theatrically into the air, sobbing as if her heart would break and disappeared back into the tap. There was a moment's silence.

"Nice going," Ginny nudged him, blushing furiously once more. "This'll be all over the school in about five minutes."

"No, it won't," Harry shrugged. "She's probably so upset that she's gone to drown herself in the s-bend or something."

"I'll have to talk to her, just in case," said Ginny giggling wickedly, her brown eyes sparking in the soft candlelight "Besides, we can compare notes."

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," came a misty voice, causing Harry to jump and break away from his vision. The images in the crystal ball faded until only the normal transparent orb remained. Lavender and Parvati groaned in disappointment from the next table over, not ready to depart from their favourite lesson. Frankly, Harry had seen enough.

Harry gathered his things, not daring to look at Ron, who still seemed a bit rattled about his own experience. Harry wondered again what it was that he had seen, but knew that asking would involve curiosity in return. In unspoken consensus, both boys made a rapid beeline for the trapdoor, nearly knocking over both Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan in their haste to escape.

"One more thing," called out Trelawney, just as Harry's hand had touched the trapdoor.

"I would like a detailed description of your visions to be written. Due in for Monday. Have a good weekend."

Ron swore violently under his breath. Harry agreed.


End file.
